


All Wounds Scar Differently

by captivated_prince (CynicalMistrust)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Aimeric, Mentions of Nicaise, Mentions of the Regent, referenced abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:46:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11455302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalMistrust/pseuds/captivated_prince
Summary: Damen watched Laurent from the bed as he marked some final notes on one of the treaties they’d discussed that afternoon. The unification between Vere and Akielon was going as smoothly as could be expected, though it would take years still for true peace to unite their peoples. It would take time, but it was worth it. Laurent was worth it. Which made what weighed on his mind so much harder to find the words to say.“That’s the fifth time you’ve sighed since I sat down.”





	All Wounds Scar Differently

**Author's Note:**

> Because screw you, fujoshi-Aimeric-haters.

Damen watched Laurent from the bed as he marked some final notes on one of the treaties they’d discussed that afternoon. The unification between Vere and Akielos was going as smoothly as could be expected, though it would take years still for true peace to unite their peoples. It would take time, but it was worth it. Laurent was worth it. Which made what weighed on his mind so much harder to find the words to say.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve sighed since I sat down.”

He winced, rubbing the back of his neck as Laurent lifted his head to look at him. “Paschal paid me a visit today.”

Laurent raised an eyebrow. “Are you injured?”

Damen let out a soft laugh. “No.” He dropped his hand to the sheets, gripping the edge of the bed as he watched Laurent, the play of the firelight in his golden hair. “He mentioned the anniversary of Aimeric’s death would be upon us soon,” he finally said, refusing to be distracted despite the way the words felt like stones on his tongue, “and asked if we could pay proper respects to him and his family.”

His fingers tightened in their hold as he saw the way Laurent went still, the hint of amusement that had been there vanishing, his political persona taking its place.

“I see.”

Damen did well not to sigh again, waiting for Laurent to consider, though he suspected he knew already what the answer would be.

“No.”

He nodded faintly, though they both knew the conversation wasn’t over; Damen wouldn’t have stalled bringing it up if it was a simple request, like what decorations should they use for their marriage ceremony. “You paid respects to Nicaise.”

Laurent rose from his chair, and it was only because they were alone together and Damen knew him so well that his pain was obvious, the flush of color creeping along his bared neck from unlaced clothing giving away his anger. “They were nothing alike,” he said, voice steady, cold.

It was Damen’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “He stabbed me with a fork,” he said, absently rubbing at the faint scars with his thumb. “And he tortured Erasmus.”

“That was-”

“Different?” Damen asked, for once interrupting Laurent.

Laurent pressed his lips together. “It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t have a choice, and he never betrayed me. Not like Aimeric did.”

“Maybe he just didn’t live long enough to have a chance to.” He knew the words hurt, saw the flinch, so minor no one else probably would have. But it had to be said, because Nicaise and Aimeric were bred from the same womb of abuse and manipulation, and while he wouldn’t say it aloud right then, they both deserved to rest in peace.

Laurent looked away, staring at the fire as he crossed his arms. The orange light highlighted the sharp angles of his face, the thin line of his lips. “He had a choice.”

“Did he?” he asked, voice quiet. He didn’t know the details of what the Regent had done to them, he’d never asked for any, but he knew whatever it was, Laurent’s status had at least offered some protection. “Aimeric’s own father knew what happened to him. He had less choice than a pet or a slave in the matter... If you were him, and the most powerful man in Vere offered you a place at his side after years of being the only one to show you any kind of affection, can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing?”

Damen watched Laurent as he held his silence for several long minutes, catching glimpses of the various emotions passing through his eyes.

Laurent finally straightened, though his gaze remained on the fire. “You’re suggesting I’m no better than him.”

“You know I’m not.” He pushed off the bed, closing the distance between them. “I’m suggesting he didn’t have someone like me to show him a better way. Jord tried... and maybe if they’d had more time, met sooner...” There was no guarantee, but he knew his biggest flaw was seeing the good in people, and it was a flaw he had no intention of getting rid of.

Laurent turned his head, staring at Damen’s chest as he kept his arms tight against his own. “I can’t forgive him.”

Damen smiled faintly, ignoring the sharp ache in his chest that bloomed with those words. “I know. It would be too close to forgiving your uncle.” He tilted his head as Laurent looked up at him, eyes brighter than usual. “But you should at least acknowledge that if Nicaise had been older, he would have been the same, and treat them equally.”

Laurent swallowed, stepping closer and pressing his forehead into Damen’s shoulder, a shiver passing through him as Damen enfolded him in his arms. “Why do you always give me such good advice?”

He let out a soft huff of breath, pressing his lips to Laurent’s temple. “Because I’m a King and it’s my duty.” He tightened his arms, his lips traveling to Laurent’s ear. “And because I love you.” He grinned as he saw the flush that crept up to meet him. “Let’s go to bed.” When Laurent nodded and stepped back, he set to work unraveling the myriad of laces, thankful the fashions were changing enough he would be able to talk Laurent into wearing something more reasonable soon.

Once they were both undressed, he guided Laurent to the bed, stretching out behind him, an arm loose around his chest, absently nuzzling and kissing from ear to shoulder and back again.

It wasn’t until they were both caught in the lull of near-sleep that Laurent spoke.

“Make the arrangements.”

He pressed a smile into the back of Laurent’s neck. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm sick of seeing people "discourse" over shit they have no experience with.


End file.
